


People Aren't Meant to Live Alone

by freebees



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Gen, Nonverbal Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freebees/pseuds/freebees
Summary: Hat Kid thinks that the Snatcher is a real weirdo when she first meets him. That never changes. [CURRENTLY DISCONTINUED]





	1. Chapter 1

Hat Kid thinks that the Snatcher is a real weirdo when she first meets him. That never changes.

He’s loud and obnoxious and pushy and, somehow, gives off the smell of cold air. Despite being dead, his personality reeks of a life still unlived. She’s no expert on the afterlife, however, so she isn’t even sure that Snatcher is a ghost, rather than a demon. When she signs her first contract with him, she silently resolves to just get through whatever it is that she needs to do. It’s not like she can go home if she doesn’t have a soul, after all.

***

She’s sleepily scribbling in her diary back on the ship. Rumbi nestles up to her like a loyal pet, the warmth of its circuits and rumbling of its engine causing her to nod off. Being soulless is, as she’s found, a very unpleasant experience. Her hands and feet feel like ice cubes all the time, and her stomach feels nauseatingly light. The chill makes it harder to write, but she continues, venting her frustrations about Snatcher’s demands to the little book. Hat Kid has decided that old people are even scarier than she thought. Her typical mischievous grin has lost a bit of its luster, Rumbi notices. It snuggles in tighter, committed to keeping her as warm as any little robot can hope to do.

Once Hat Kid decides she’s done enough writing for the night, she crawls out of her pillows, tosses her hat onto the foot of her bed, and slips under the covers, too tired to turn the lights off. She thinks that it’s because she’s too tired, at least. It most definitely isn’t because the shadows, if they grow just a little bit longer, will look a bit too much like her employer. She closes her eyes and is vaguely aware of Rumbi slipping underneath the covers with her. She drowsily hopes that it doesn’t suck the fitted sheet loose.

***

It’s when she first returns from Vanessa’s manor that she notices something has changed.

The room inside of the giant mushroom may very well be the brightest spot in the entire forest. Not the warmest--that title goes to the section of the woods that happens to outright be on fire--but certainly far more welcoming than the house she had just stumbled her way through, every creaking step a potential death sentence. If she thought that being soulless was cold, it paled in comparison to that place.

Snatcher is reading a law book. At least, she thinks it’s a law book. There isn’t any text on the cover. He doesn’t look up from it until Hat Kid sneezes, at which point he stiffens and glances up. She stares back at him, fairly certain that he should get the message; she’s finished another one of her contracts. He appears to relax somewhat, the bristles around his neck beginning to smooth, and returns to his book. “Okay, kid,” he says, lifting a hand for the sole purpose of waving it dismissively. “Come back tomorrow.”

Hat Kid turns in a huff before she stops abruptly. The room feels warmer all of a sudden. Not burning hot, of course, but significantly toastier.

Snatcher puts his book down yet again and throws her a dirty look. “What is it? Go home already, kid.”

He turns to the side of the chair, picks up a fire iron, and prods at a few logs in the fireplace that Hat Kid hadn’t noticed before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hat Kid shows wanton disregard for the private property of others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for all the nice feedback!!! i'm starting to formulate where i want to go with this fic, so one thing to keep in mind at this point:  
> death wish mode and bow kid are both non-canon to the narrative of this fic. death wish is fun to play with and bow kid is great, but they don't mesh well with the direction i want to take this.  
> i'll also be adding tags for characters and events as time goes on.  
> thanks for reading!

Some people are fundamentally lonely. They have solitude carved into their hearts and isolation running through their blood. They have been alone for such a long time that they cannot envision themselves any other way.

For some, this is due to an inability to connect with others. This may be due to any number of reasons; in certain cases, that reason is a fear of being misunderstood, whether that fear is justified or not. 

For others, it is the result of something happening that they wish in vain they could forget.

For a select few, it is both.

The Snatcher falls into the third category, though he believes himself to belong to the second. He tries not to self-reflect too much. It only makes him sad.

When he first meets Hat Kid, he finds her to be an odd child. His stance on this will never shift.

***

Hat Kid, finished with her contracts, is ready to collect her last Time Piece from the forest. More than that, she's ready for Snatcher to give her soul back. When Snatcher pointedly decides to do the opposite of that, she's more than a little miffed, though she isn't exactly willing to show it. Instead, she releases her anger by fighting for her life.

Geez. First the little girl with the mustache, then DJ Grooves, and now this guy. She has a real bad habit of attracting betrayal.

After making some 'small' alterations to the contract, she's pleased to regain both her soul and Time Piece. It was pretty funny, she thinks, how upset Snatcher sounded during their "negotiations". He was a way bigger pushover than she ever could've dreamed. That night, her diary entry is still a little annoyed, but a touch more smug than before. Rumbi is pleased to see the hint of self-satisfaction has returned to her face.

***

Snatcher glares at the top of his ottoman blankly. He's bored.

He lies back over one arm of his chair and flips through his law books listlessly, holding them in the air high above his face. Fiction has never interested him, but right now, he would kill for some variety. The book he's currently shifting through slips out of his grasp and falls through his form, thudding onto the floor.

He doesn't feel like stealing mail or setting up traps, and the thought of fraternizing with his minions doesn't strike him as a particularly pleasant activity. It's not that he dislikes them; it's just that they don't have the same ideas of what makes for a riveting conversation. He can only listen to semi-morbid trivia about various fruits for so long. He could patrol for trouble, of course, but one of Snatcher's greatest pitfalls is the fact that he's irredeemably lazy, and it would be just about as entertaining to him as doing nothing at all.

***

It's been a few weeks since the kid last rolled around, and Snatcher is growing uncomfortable. It's that stupid contract she wrote up. He was an idiot for stamping it so quickly.

If she shows up again, he isn't exactly sure what he'll do. He couldn't directly hurt her, of course; sure, it wouldn't technically be a violation of the contract, but you can't expect a child to account for those sorts of loopholes. He could try to scare her off, but they both know that she can easily take him out at this point. Better to hope that she doesn't take her chances and ride up on a scooter, pointing her umbrella towards him in a threatening display of peace and friendship.

One of his minions knocks at the opening of the room, causing Snatcher to nearly jump out of his shadow. They're struggling under the weight of a giant brown package, propped on top of their back. Snatcher lights up and quickly swoops over to grab it, leaving the minion to collapse to the floor in relief.

Snatcher holds two of his claws like a pair of scissors and swiftly tears the package open, relieved to find that it's exactly the thing he's been waiting for.

"How To Kill Kids: A Comprehensive Guide to Maiming, Scarring, and Otherwise Damaging the Youth of Today," he reads to no one, grinning massively. "This should scare her off."

***

To Snatcher's disappointment, it completely and utterly fails to scare Hat Kid off. Instead, she alerts him to her presence with the sound of her scooter crashing into the side of his home, before barging in without knocking. He furrows his brow in disgust at her lack of manners. She responds by blowing a raspberry and jumping onto his chair, pulling herself up onto one of the arms. She glances at the book and seems briefly interested in the pictures before hopping back down, deciding that a spot in the room where the wallpaper is peeling off is far more interesting. If it weren't for her appearance, Snatcher would've believed her to be a toddler.

Actually, that's an idea that he very much does not want to entertain. Fighting a ten-year old wasn't exactly respectable, but it was far better than throwing hands with a child of four.

Wait. No. Just forget the whole thing.

He peers over the top of his book, which he is pretending to be engrossed in, to watch Hat Kid bounce around aimlessly. At one point he tells her that he has no more contracts for her and that she should play somewhere else, but if she hears him, she certainly doesn't listen.

Wow. Guess she has a pretty self-centered definition of 'best friend', Snatcher thinks. Bet all the other alien kids secretly think she's a jerk. Bet they groan irritably when she arrives at their spaceships uninvited and takes unusual amounts of interest in their peeling wallpaper, which they can't be bothered to fix, but it's alright because they have far more important things to worry about anyways. He sticks his tongue out at her.

She whips around at half the speed of light. Snatcher returns to his reading twice as quickly, convinced of his own air of unaffected sarcasm. He's sure that his biting wit could give someone rabies. If you were to ask Hat Kid, she would find the result more likely to scab over after an hour or two and never bug you again.

After several silent minutes have dragged painfully by, Hat Kid rides off on her scooter, disappearing into the darkness of the woods. Snatcher tries to tell himself that she probably just went back up to her ship, but he can't shake the sense of unease at the thought of her frolicking about in his forest.

He can't help feeling a little curious about what she might be up to, either.

He'll head out for a bit to keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't cause any trouble. It's no big deal.

***

Hat Kid isn’t spooked by Subcon anymore. She doesn’t know it painstakingly well yet, but she’s no longer frightened by the idea of what might be lurking around the corner or above the treetops. It’s become a place she feels comfortable exploring now, especially since she knows what a glass cannon the place’s leader is. All style and no substance, really.

She still strays away from the manor, however. She gets the feeling that there’s nothing to be found there except a distinct sense of unhappiness. Nobody in their right mind would want to spend their time in a place like that.

The minions, she’s found, have taken a liking to her as well. Some of them follow her around, giggling and chasing her scooter. She wonders if they were once children too.

There are also times where she feels as if she’s being watched, but it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s not the kind of gaze that makes her skin crawl; it’s closer to the beam of a flashlight. Simple observation. On occasion, she’ll see shadows dancing around her peripheral vision. They flee once she turns towards them, but she could swear that they aren’t just her imagination.

It’s a clear night, and the moon is shining brightly, streams of light illuminating the grass. The trees cast long shadows, and the mushrooms appear relatively dim in the night’s glow. Hat Kid swings from branch to branch, carefree. Finding all the little hidden corners of the forest has proven to be a great way to pass the time, and while she doesn’t want to grow too attached to this planet, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t beginning to enjoy her time here quite a bit. It was so different from her home, but it was starting to feel as if it had been waiting just for her arrival.

She makes her way to the end of the treeline and decides to climb higher. Her hands and feet are tiny, but they find dips and protrusions in the bark with ease, allowing her to make her way to the top in short order. She feels like she’s on top of the world. Technically speaking, she isn’t too far off.

She finds a solid tangle of branches and leaves to recline on, plopping comfortably on the top layer of foliage. The leaves are a little wet from early morning dew, but she doesn’t mind. Up here, the moon is much clearer. The light is both beautiful and near-blinding. Hat Kid folds her arms behind her head and relaxes into her makeshift cushion, closing her eyes, tempted to take a nap.

As it turns out, sleeping on a treetop is a very bad idea.

It isn’t long before she finds herself torn awake, plummeting hundreds of feet through the air. She desperately fumbles for her umbrella and panics to find that it’s falling several feet away. Hat Kid attempts to swim through the air towards it, but she fears she won’t make it. Her fearful train of thought is interrupted by a tree branch, which knocks the wind out of her and causes her to careen straight towards another. After being pachinko’d through a series of branches, she finally lands on a solid and sturdy one near the ground. Her ribs are sore and her breathing is labored, but she can tell straight away that nothing is broken, and she’s pretty sure she didn’t hit her head. She opens her eyes, somewhat dizzy from the fall.

Nevermind. She might have hit her head after all, because her umbrella is clutched unbroken in one hand, and the branches that had slowed her fall are nowhere to be seen. She quietly groans with a mixture of relief and moderate pain. Somewhere in the shadows, a ghost sports an expression somewhere between exasperation and worry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are beginning to change (for better or for worse).

Snatcher doesn’t like the way that Hat Kid is looking at him.

Her eyes are fixed on his face as he tries to pretend to read. He wonders if she’s noticed him watching her as she wanders the forest. He hopes she doesn’t think he’s too weird, though his fate on that front was sealed long ago. First impressions matter, Snatcher. Shouldn’t you know that? After all, appearances used to mean everything for you.

He blinks, pushing the creeping thought back. In a moment, he’ll have forgotten it. Be confident.

“Do you need something, kid?” He asks, closing his book. She wipes her nose with a grubby sleeve and sniffs. His eyes narrow. If he had done that when he was little, he would’ve never heard the end of it. Kids these days.

She shakes her head and turns to look at the walls of the room. The wallpaper looks brand new, without a tear in sight.

“Kid.”

She looks back at him.

“Why don’t you ever just say yes or no?”

The question gives her pause. Her face wrinkles in concentration, and she raises a hand to her chin. It’s not like she can’t talk, or that she refuses to. It just has never come naturally to her in the way it has for others.

Snatcher briefly looks startled. “You do know how to talk, don’t you?”

Hat Kid clenches her fists, nodding vigorously. She straightens, returning her palm to its spot at her chin. She isn’t sure how to explain it. Her demeanor changes as an idea pops into her head, and she grabs for a stray crayon in her pocket. She hops onto Snatcher’s chair with ease and grabs one corner of his book.

“HEY!”

She ignores his booming protest and jots an explanation onto the white space of one of the pages. There’s an illustration of a bottle of green poison on it. She’s far from phased. Once she finishes up, Snatcher yanks the book away defensively. Hat Kid sticks out her arms for a moment to regain her balance as she perches on the armrest. Snatcher glares at the messy handwriting as he reads.

“Oh,” he says, expression softening just a tad. “I think I get what you mean.”

He doesn’t say it aloud, but his mind wanders to a time when he had been a little boy, unable to speak through the noise around him. His case was clearly different from Hat Kids, but he gets the feeling that the circumstances weren’t all too different. If it hadn’t been for his status, he thinks, it’s entirely possible that he would’ve ended up a little more like her.

“Say, kid,” he says, causing her to snap back to attention. “If you ever need any help with that sort of thing,” he offers, silently remembering how his own tutors had helped him become more vocal, “I think I can give it.”

Hat Kid snorts. Snatcher’s expression becomes confused.

“What’s so funny?” He says, a hint of a growl in his voice.

Her grin softens slightly, and she throws her arms into the air, mimicking his personal brand of showmanship.

“Ah, I’m a little loud for you, am I?” Snatcher asks, tone growing sardonic. Hat Kid puts one hand on her hip and winks.

“Well,” Snatcher says, his smile becoming wicked. “This book is still perfectly readable. Your crayon assault can do nothing to stop me from learning your weaknesses,” he insists, raising one hand dramatically into the air.

Hat Kid giggles and hops down, running towards the entrance. She looks back for a moment to stick her thumbs in her ears and wiggle her tongue at him before slipping into the night outside. Snatcher smirks after her.

Outside, Hat Kid slows down and begins to stroll along the path. There’s a soft breeze tonight, and she can hear windchimes gently ringing somewhere in the distance. They must be coming from the village.

She stops and stretches, lifting her arms above her head. It’s nice to stop and relax once in a while, she thinks. She’s often so consumed with running about and finding little treasures that she doesn’t normally take in the scenery. Subcon, despite its atmosphere, is far calmer than Mafia Town, or the Conductor’s train, or the city on the moon.

In the moon’s defense, it does seem fairly mild, once you go beyond the limits of the city. Of course, the oxygen field only extends so far out, but if you look beyond the tall buildings, there’s nothing to be found except for the pale dust and craters. After that, there’s only darkness.

Hat Kid’s thoughts return to Snatcher. She wonders if he knows about the time rift that had opened deep within the forest, where the glass structure was shattered. Probably, right? It is his self-proclaimed territory, after all. But that doesn’t mean that he understands the implications of that.

The pieces of memories she came across weren’t exactly light reading, either. That prince ended up looking rather familiar towards the end. She wonders what Snatcher would say if he found out that she knew.

Well, she thinks, no point in dwelling on it. That’s Snatcher’s business, and as far as she’s concerned, he can sort out his problems himself. She’s done enough to help him out already.

***

It’s a cold night. Hat Kid has decided to stay in her ship, playing in her pillow castle and throwing bread crumbs on the carpet for Rumbi to pick up. She’s wearing an oversized sweater; her ship is perfectly temperature-controlled, but it’s comfortable to wear. She likes to be comfortable.

She’s running diagnostics on her ship when her eyes roam towards her fuel count, and she feels as if she’s suddenly been rudely awoken from a nice dream, cold water splashing on her face. The tank has barely reached half-full. She’s been having so much fun exploring that she’s all but completely forgotten about making it back home.

Rumbi, confused as to why the periodic showers of breadcrumbs have stopped, rumbles across the floor. It bumps into the side of her legs, and she starts. She reaches down to pet it after a moment of spacing out. It whistles, pleased.

The diagnostics client on her screen pings. All systems functional and running. Hat Kid plops down, not bothering to walk the few feet to the more comfortable cushions in front of her TV. She hugs her knees to her chest and sits. Aside from Rumbi, who quietly hums at her side, she feels rather alone.

Cooking Cat might still be in the kitchen, she thinks. She picks herself up and begins to climb towards the tunnel leading to the other room. To her relief, the orange cat is working at the stove. The smell of fish fills the air, and Hat Kid wrinkles her nose. Cooking Cat looks over at her.

“What’s the matter, hon?” she asks, noticing Hat Kid’s sullen expression right away. Hat Kid only sighs in response, shakes her head, and attempts a smile. Cookie is smarter than that.

“Want me to make you some warm milk?”

Hat Kid gives a quiet “mm-hmm”, still a little sullen. She heads over to where Cookie is working and hops up to sit on the counter. Cookie quickly shoos her away.

“Don’t want your sweater catching on fire, sweetheart,” she says, pulling out a saucepan. She sets it onto the stove and ignites the flame.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asks. Hat Kid looks away sheepishly. Cookie decides not to press the issue further. Instead, she focuses on trying to identify milk from Hat Kid’s complete and utter mess of a fridge. She pulls out a red and white carton, sniffs the half-open top, and reels back in horror. “Hon, this is spoiled rotten!”

Hat Kid cocks an eyebrow and grabs the carton from Cookie’s paw. She sniffs it without reaction and hands it back to her. Smells perfectly normal to her.

Cookie looks at Hat Kid, then back at the sour milk. If she’s certain, then.

She pours the liquid into the pan, swearing that it looks tinged green. Once the milk begins to sizzle, however, it begins to give off an aroma of vanilla and cinnamon. Cookie still wouldn’t try it herself, but she reasons that it isn’t as likely to be poison as she thought. After a minute passes, she turns the flame off and remove the pan from the stovetop. Hat Kid climbs up and kneels on the counter, reaching for a mug from the cupboard. Cookie takes the mug, sets it on the counter, and pours in the milk. Less than a second after the last drop has made it in, Hat Kid grabs the mug, nearly causing it to spill over. She chugs in ten seconds, it as if it isn’t scalding.

After she finishes, she wipes off her mouth with one sleeve, tosses the mug into the sink, and gives Cookie a hug. The cat is startled, but gives her a few gentle pats on the back.

Hat Kid decides to get some sleep. She heads off to bed, Rumbi following. She hopes she’ll feel better in the morning.

***

It’s a cold night. Snatcher can’t feel temperature anymore. He considers that to be a good thing.

He’s decided to get off of his ghostly butt and patrol the forest, for once. Doesn’t seem like anything new is happening. It feels like nothing has happened since the kid finished up her contracts, in fact. There have been a couple unruly spirits, sure, but they haven’t been anything his minions couldn’t take care of themselves. It’s as if the whole forest is waiting for something big to happen, but it doesn’t know exactly what that something is, and Snatcher isn’t keen on finding out. He would love for his forest to stay the same forever; it isn’t perfect, but it’s comfortable.

He likes to be comfortable.

There’s something in the woods. Something made of glass. Something frozen in the middle of shattering. Snatcher can almost remember what it used to be, but even if he could, there’s no telling if it was anything important. Maybe some things just aren’t meant to be known about, once they’re gone.

He’s passed it by when one of his minions runs up to him, out of breath.

“Boss!” they cry. Snatcher perks up, apprehension taking hold. He rears up and crosses his arms, trying to brush the feeling away.

“What is it?” he says. “Don’t keep it to yourself, now.”

“Those foxes are back!”

Snatcher feels his anxiety melt away. It’s quickly replaced with irritation.

“Pretty sure you know what to do about that, don’t you?”

“Uh.” The minion doesn’t respond. Snatcher pinches what would be the bridge of his nose. He wants his minion to see his disappointment.

“The fire, idi--kid,” he grunts. “You fuel the fire. They’ll leave after that.”

“Ah. Thanks, boss.”

“No problem,” Snatcher sighs. “Try to keep that in mind next time, won’t you?”

The minion salutes and races back along the trail. There’s a spring in their step. Snatcher’s frustration left no impact whatsoever.

He idly wonders when his anger ceased to be a sufficient threat.

He wishes he knew how to change it.

He won’t admit it, but when he sees the lack of fear in the minion’s gait, it scares him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the feedback, as always! you guys say the nicest things ;-;  
> for future reference, i might end up adding/deleting some tags as i work on this, just so they're more fitting.  
> a quick note in case anybody is confused about the first part of the chapter: writing hat kid with full dialogue has never felt fitting, and as someone who is autistic, i generally headcanon her as nonverbal. tbqh i headcanon most characters i like as autistic anyways, so i decided to write snatcher with that in mind as well. as a bonus it gives them some common ground to work with in terms of their development  
> one more thing; i've really been flying through these chapters, but that pace may not continue going forwards. i do have an overarching story in mind, so i have plans to finish this at some point. daily updates probably won't continue long into the future, though.  
> thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the minions drag Hat Kid into their plans.

It’s nearly the autumn season on this part of the planet, Hat Kid thinks. The temperature is beginning to drop, and the leaves on the trees are starting to turn shades of orange and brown. They aren’t very far along yet, but they’re getting there, highlights of warmth amongst the greenery.

She’s come to the forest a little earlier in the day than usual, and a bit of the sun’s rays can still be seen, streaks of orange being driven under the horizon by the endless night sky. It gives the forest a different atmosphere. While it isn’t as starkly different from the usual moonlight as the wildfire is, it does give the whole place a different feeling.

Hat Kid wonders where Snatcher is. He doesn’t sleep, does he? It’s hard to imagine him wandering around during the day. You never see movies with ghosts hanging out in the evening sun, after all. They’re always keeping to the shadows, all sneaky and such.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a minion. If they’re moving around, Snatcher could be too. She makes a mental note to ask later.

At this point, she’s mostly just wasting time in the forest, but she tells herself that it’s no big deal. There could be tokens or yarn she hasn’t found yet, or maybe somebody new to talk to. It’s a big place; it would be a shame to leave parts of it undiscovered.

She could ask Snatcher if there’s anything cool to find, but he would probably lie just to get her in trouble and then laugh at her.

A chill crawls up her spine out of nowhere, and she stiffens in place, suddenly feeling much less alone.

Something shambles out of the bushes behind her, and she leaps around, whacking it in the side of the head with her umbrella. It lets out an “oof” and clutches at the spot where she hit it. Hat Kid’s eyes widen and she brings a hand to her mouth, realizing that she hit one of the minions.

The minion notices her fretting and puts their hands up in front of them, trying to calm her down.

“No, no, I’m fine! It just surprised me!” they say, sounding as terrified as Hat Kid looks. She relaxes somewhat, a look of concern still on her face, and lifts her hand to the spot on her own head where the minion was hit.

“I don’t actually feel any pain,” the minion says, their voice a little more at ease. “Don’t worry about it.” They pat their burlap hood and puff out their chest, as if showing off. She drops her chin and sighs, relieved.

“Hey,” they say, causing Hat Kid to look back up. “As it turns out, me and the other minions have been needing help with something, but the boss can’t know about it. Follow me!”

Hat Kid remembers the first time she followed one of the minions, and how it led to her being forced into a contract. She hesitates. The minion cocks their head to the side inquisitively for a moment.

“Oh!” they exclaim. “This isn’t a trap, I promise! The boss never comes out this early.”

Well, that answers Hat Kid’s earlier question. She gestures for the minion to take the lead. They obey.

The duo end up in the village, where several other minions are waiting. A large scroll of yellowed, blank paper lies on the ground, with one minion holding a couple of oversized quills in their arms. When the two make their way to the group, the minion drops the quills, letting them fall to the dirt. One snaps. The minion is dismayed.

“Oh, man, why did you do that?” another minion whisper-shouts. “If the boss finds out we broke one of his quills, he’ll be ticked!”

“Relax,” says the minion who recruited Hat Kid. “He won’t miss it.” They turn towards her. “Hey, do you have any ink? I forgot to bring any.”

The uptight minion presses their hands to their temples, distressed. She shakes her head no.

Uptight looks like they’re going to have an aneurysm.

“How did you forget to bring any ink? Why did you bring the kid instead?” they ask. “You forget everything!”

“Hey,” the minion says, sounding hurt. “That’s a little mean.”

The two minions who have stayed silent appear to be playing rock-paper-scissors, lost in their own world. The minion who dropped the quills moves their head as if rolling their eyes.

“Does she even know why we’re here?” they ask.

The minion who brought Hat Kid along is quiet. Quill-Dropper glances at Uptight before crossing their arms and explaining.

“So,” they begin, “every so often, the boss gets a little worn down. When that happens, we all get together to throw him a surprise party. That way, he knows that we still appreciate him, and it always seems to perk him up!”

“Yeah,” Uptight says, exasperated. “His favorite part is insulting our work until those two cry.” They point to the two playing rock-paper-scissors. “Even though they’re the only ones who come without any intention of helping,” they finish, grimacing.

One of the minions beats the other’s rock using paper. They jump up and down, victorious. They are the champion. It is them.

“Best two hundred fifty-six out of five hundred eleven?” Rock asks. Paper stops their celebration instantly, nodding. They resume their game.

Uptight sighs loudly, but is ignored. Those two must really be in the zone, Hat Kid thinks.

Hat Kid’s companion is the next to speak.

“I mean, if it makes him happy, it makes him happy!” they say. “So what if he’s got a mean streak? We still owe it to him to do something nice, every one in a while.”

“Listen,” Uptight says, “I’m just here to make sure you guys don’t get him too mad.”

Companion snorts. “All these years, and you’re still afraid of him? Sure, he’s no saint, but he’d never hurt us. Don’t be so sensitive.”

Quill-Dropper interjects. “Well, he is pretty loud when he’s mad.”

Hat Kid thinks that Snatcher can be pretty quiet when he’s actually mad, but she says nothing.

“He’s also loud when he’s happy. And when he thinks he’s being funny. Seriously, where have you been?” Companion retorts. “Seriously, kid, don’t you have anything to write with?”

Of course she does, she thinks. She grabs her trusty crayon from her pocket.

“Red, huh?” Uptight says. “He won’t like that, you know. Purple and black are more his style.”

“Oh, come on,” Companion says. “He’s gonna make fun of us anyways. It’s what he does.”

“I already told you, I just don’t want us getting into more trouble than we usually do!”

Companion ignores them, tapping Hat Kid on the shoulder. “Hey, kid, can you write ‘thank you’ on that piece of paper?” They gesture to the parchment on the ground. She gives a thumbs-up and kneels on the ground, getting to work.

The three participating minions stare. The other two still aren’t paying attention.

“Uh, hey, kid,” Quill-Dropper says, “I dunno what language that is.” They point to her linear scrawls. Hat Kid notes to herself that they must not recognize her homeworld’s language. Then again, this planet is considerably isolated and primitive, so she shouldn’t be too hard on them. Probably for the best, anyways.

“It’s okay!” Companion says. “The boss won’t care. Can you draw pictures of us?” They ask Hat Kid. She grins, always happy to add a masterful doodle or two to her writing.

The drawings aren’t perfectly accurate, but she finds room to add the five minions she’s with (who all look fairly similar), as well as her trademark self-portrait. After a moment of consideration, she adds a fluffy rendition of Snatcher towards the top of the banner. There. All done.

The minions look at it thoughtfully. Uptight tries to wave Rock and Paper over, but they’re playing pattycake now. They scoff and put their hands on their hips like an irritated mother.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Oh my g--he never likes anything! How many times do I have to say it?”

“Eh, it’ll work just fine. Nice art!”

Hat Kid smiles at the compliment, ego fueled. It’s nice to have her wealth of talents recognized for once. Actress, fighter, artist, scientist; is there anything she can’t do? She thinks not.

***

Night falls over Subcon, and with the darkness’s return, Snatcher rematerializes. Even he isn’t sure where he goes during the day. It’s a little like sleeping, though there’s never been a hint of a dream. That does mean no chance of nightmares, at least.

The shadows twist together into something long and free. He’s awake for the night.

He hasn’t made any plans, so when a minion runs up to him, looking as if they have something unimportant to say, he gives them the honor of a disinterested sigh, imitating the expression of someone who’s only listening out of obligation. The minion bounces in place excitedly.

“What do you need?” Snatcher asks.

“The foxes are back again.”

Snatcher wants to punch someone.

“Are you the same minion who told me about them last time?” he asks, letting a hint of annoyance slip through. He’s been doing this for a long time. He has to sound just angry enough to keep them on their toes.

“Dunno,” the minion responds. They sound a little nervous, much to Snatcher’s satisfaction. “Can you come help out? Please?”

Snatcher laments his current lack of contractors to himself before giving a strained “ugh, fine”. The minion grows even more visibly anxious.

“Okay, cool! Let’s go,” they say, sounding as if they’re just shy of wringing their hands. Nice. If it is the same minion, it’s good to see them remembering their place. Snatcher was worried that he might’ve been keeping them around for a little too long by now, but if the minion’s energy is any indication, he’s still as feared as ever.

Snatcher allows the minion to take the lead, floating leisurely along the ground, silently listing off locations in his head where he needs to set up traps. Things had been awfully quiet lately, but it was always best to be prepared.

As they approach the village, Snatcher squints, unable to find the roaring bonfire that usually accompanies the obnoxious foxes. The minion stops short beneath him, and Snatcher meets their gaze.

“So?” he asks. “Where are they?”

The minion giggles and puts up a finger, as if telling him to wait. They run off. Snatcher realizes that he’s been duped and groans loudly, realizing he’s had his time wasted yet again.

The minions do this every couple of years. It’s gotten so old. He hopes that they don’t expect him to stay for too long. He hasn’t broken a minion’s contract in quite some time, but he reasons that, if he has no other choice, then he’ll have to make an example.

He hears hurried mumbling from behind one of the tree stumps and the sound of someone dropping something.

“Again?!” a voice says. Snatcher crosses his arms as he waits. If he had a watch, he would be checking it absentmindedly.

The minion who brought him steps out from behind a stump and excitedly holds their arms out to one side.

“Boss!” they say. “Thanks for everything you do for us!”

Two minions reveal themselves, each holding a wooden stick that props up a banner. The paper is covered in a recognizable shade of red crayon. Looking at the drawings, Snatcher has a pretty good idea of who exactly they dragged into their little party this time around, and his suspicions are confirmed when Hat Kid follows the small procession. She races between the two parading minions and strikes a pose, beaming. It’s a little amusing.

“Well then, what do we have here?” Snatcher says, sarcasm evident. “Cute little party. Guess you really don’t get tired of doing this over and over, huh?”

The two minions holding the banner recoil a little. The one by Snatcher looks as proud as ever. Hat Kid feels as if she’s suddenly a part of something she wasn’t meant to be.

“And I suppose,” Snatcher continues, “that you dragged in the living one because it would add in some flavor?” He rears up and begins to clap slowly. “Very good. Very nice. So new. So fresh. Hey, have you ever considered,” he says, “what it would be like to live up to someone’s expectations for once in your afterlives? I mean, you guys do this every other year, y’know? Don’t you think you should take a bit of a hiatus? Some time to come up with an original idea?”

“Aw, c’mon, boss,” the bold minion says. “Look! The kid even drew all of us! Together!”

Snatcher glances at the banner.

“Where are the other two?” he asks, tone flat.

One of the minions holding the banner starts and glances at the other, a question heavy on their mind. The other shrugs casually. The first glances around, panicked.

“Dang, kid,” Snatcher says, “looks like you can’t count. Aren’t you supposed to be a pilot or something?”

Hat Kid purses her lips and stares at Snatcher skeptically. She isn’t gonna play his game.

She walks up to his side and looks up at him, planting her feet firmly underneath her. Snatcher stares right back down.

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, kid,” he says, “but I ain’t budging on this. You have a boring party thrown for you every other year for a couple hundred of ‘em, and you’ll see what I mean.”

Hat Kid doesn’t move. The minions look at one another, somewhat lost.

A beat of silence passes.

“Well, bye!” Snatcher says, disappearing into the ground, a shadow slipping across the forest floor. Hat Kid stalls for a moment in shock before chasing after him, reaching for her umbrella.

Rock and Paper look up from their game on the other side of the river. Paper sniffs.

***

It takes a little under seven minutes for Hat Kid to find Snatcher again. He’s off pretending to be very invested in an oddly-shaped tree. Hat Kid runs up to him. He makes a show of ignoring her.

After a minute, the silence becomes unbearable.

“Listen, kid,” Snatcher says, still looking at the tree. “I do enough for my minions. I have the right to say a mean thing or two to them every once in a while.”

Hat Kid is unmoved. Snatcher squirms.

“It’s not like it’s a big deal!”

Hat Kid holds her umbrella with one hand, the end slung over her shoulder. Her other hand rests against her hip.

Snatcher sighs and glances down at her.

“I’m not gonna be nice to them, kiddo. That’d defeat the entire point of them being my minions, and I think you should know by now that virtue isn’t high on my list of priorities. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten that yet.”

Hat Kid shakes her head. No, she’s gotten that.

Snatcher whips around, impatient.

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?” he growls.

Hat Kid smirks and pulls out her crayon. The bristles on Snatcher’s neck stiffen, the corners of his mouth pulling downwards.

“What, you want me to compliment your childish scribbles? Are you crazy?”

Hat Kid acts like she’s thinking about it, then nods yes.

“Well, I’m not gonna, so you have to deal with it!” Snatcher finally says. He closes his eyes and lifts his head proudly, certain that he’s landed a devastating blow against the pre-teen. Legends will tell of his ability to whittle away at the self-esteem of young children for all time.

He cracks open one eye to glance at Hat Kid, who is still standing beneath him, yawning.

“Seriously, kid, I’m not joking around right now,” Snatcher hisses.

Hat Kid isn’t paying attention anymore. She balances one end of the umbrella on the tip of her finger.

Snatcher fights the instinct to strike her down right there. Remember the contract you stamped. Remember the stupid, stupid, stupid contract.

“Right. Fine,” he sighs. “Your drawings weren’t that bad. Is that what you want me to say? They didn’t make me wish I was still ali--wish I was corporeal, so that I could gauge my own eyes out. That’s a compliment, isn’t it?”

Hat Kid is now attempting to balance the umbrella on her head. Snatcher grimaces.

“And, uh, the minions aren’t that bad at the whole party thing. I mean, they’re trying, right? ‘A for effort’ as they say. I give them bodies and they do menial tasks. Of course they would want to thank me for doing something so nice.”

He pauses.

“Hey, don’t you know how to write in our language? Did you write some weird alien curse word instead?”

The corners of Hat Kid’s mouth turn upwards. She makes finger guns at him. Snatcher lets out a small “huh”.

“That’s sneaky, kid. At this point, I guess I shouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

There’s no indignation in his words. Instead, he almost sounds impressed.

Back in the village, Quill-Dropper is thanking the powers that be that Snatcher didn’t find where they had stashed the broken quill. Uptight is exhaustedly trying to comfort Rock and Paper, who are sullen and depressed. After a pep talk that seethed with the energy of having been delivered over and over again, they decide to play hide-and-seek. Companion skips about, delighted at yet another bi-annual celebration having gone smoothly--or, at least, as smoothly as it could be expected to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, as always! i'm looking to get the plot moving along here shortly, so stay tuned.  
> EDIT (OCT. 2019): okay, so i hate to do this, but i've decided to discontinue the story. i'm not really interested in ahit anymore (though i do still enjoy it), so writing fic for it just isn't fun. i hope you guys liked what i wrote anyways, and i hope you all continue to find fics you enjoy!


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